


Sweep You Off Your Feet (Or Mop Around)

by r0tkappchen



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bullying, Fluff, M/M, Romance, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 11:38:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13294071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/r0tkappchen/pseuds/r0tkappchen
Summary: Jongin listens to love songs. Kyungsoo listens to the thumping inside him, courtesy of his heart.(In which, Jongin is the friendly, popular guy and Kyungsoo admires him from afar)





	1. Sweep You Off Your Feet (Or Mop Around)

He is a shadow that stands in between the rows of lockers, watching patiently as the students scurry to their respective classes in the midst of morning rush. The arts department is always busy early in the day – this particular wing, especially – for reasons he cannot fathom.

 

Nonetheless, it has become a routine of sorts. He'd come to the building when there is barely even a soul around, get his stuff ready, and by five minutes before eight he'd be waiting for the hallways to clear for him to start his job; trusty sidekick in hand.

 

The janitor life isn't that dull, Kyungsoo had discovered a few weeks back. He made friends with the other workers, staff, and even the occasional friendly lecturers who'd drop by their rest station to have a drink and chat. Free excess to the studios, practice rooms and galleries is a plus in his book too.

 

But what Kyungsoo likes the most, is that he gets to see _him_ everyday.

 

Him, who is right now walking pass on legs that go on forever. Kyungsoo's eyes subtly follow his figure right up to where he stops at his locker – locker number 808, his mind supplies helpfully – and takes out some books, laughing to whatever his friend just said. Kyungsoo looks away blushing; the sight doing things to his heart.

 

Tanned, chiseled jaw lines, warm, brown eyes and a breathtaking smile, Kim Jongin is the very definition of art himself, someone Kyungsoo would probably paint with careful strokes of his brush if he's taking the course. Kyungsoo likes everything about him be it his looks or his personality. Call him a creep, but he has been keeping an eye on the male since the day they first met, Jongin glowing like a hero sans the cape as he fended off some guys who tried to pick on him the first day he stepped into the establishment. Flustered, he had scrambled away with a hasty 'thank you' and never looked back. Jongin might not have seen his face but Kyungsoo did, and oh does he remember. And this certain face has been the one Kyungsoo's eyes involuntarily look for every day.

 

Which isn't really a hard task, really. Because Jongin shines like a beacon among the crowd. Jongin is popular; not in the jock way, but in the quieter, sophisticated way. Aside from his beauty, people can't help falling in love with his easy smiles and warmth and corny jokes and just, his generally lovable self. The gifts and chocolates he got on Valentine's are proof enough.

 

Kyungsoo on the other hand, is the quiet guy off to the side, left admiring the man of his dreams from afar.

 

He doesn't stand a chance against all those beautiful friends Jongin keeps close. He has nothing to offer too, doors to further his studies slammed shut the moment he decided to quit high school to support the family. They had barely enough to foot the bill for _one_ person and his sister needed that. At age 22 - a year older than Jongin, who is 21 - he's stuck running around and taking on jobs for whatever money he could get for his..financially challenged family.

 

The crowd thins out and with a resigned sigh, Kyungsoo grabs his broom and starts working. He can only ever _dream_ of standing next to Jongin, someone who's on the greener side of the grass. Kyungsoo is the weed hiding beneath the dried shrubbery.

 

He's only a janitor after all.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He's biased and Kyungsoo admits it as he wipes the window by Jongin's supposed seat extra hard. He wants Jongin to have as much healthy sunlight and good lighting as he can, just as how he deserves the best stool among all they have in stock. Finishing up with dusting the display case by the door, Kyungsoo leaves with a satisfied smile.

 

Kyungsoo loves that he's been assigned to this part of the department, where the studios are ones Jongin has his practical classes in. He wants to dream and convince himself that this is fate – and he can't help but be thankful for this arrangement, because despite not being able to be close to his crush physically, at least he has this little things that makes him feel somewhat connected to Jongin. In a way. It isn't satisfactory, but for now..this will do.

 

The hallways being empty, Kyungsoo deems the coast clear for him to start humming a merry tune under his breathe as he walks leisurely towards the staff rooms for lunch where his friend and the ahjussis have probably started. He knows he's always the latest to arrive because he prefers taking the longer route, where in the middle of the way he'd stop by a large window overlooking a small garden.

 

His fingers tingle with excitement and he bites the tips in giddiness, bending his upper body over to peek through the glass while his lower stays behind the wall. And there, right on the bench beneath a lush, shady tree, sits the object of his affection.

 

Here from the second floor, Kyungsoo gets a nice view of the taller young man. The student's lunch break on Mondays and Tuesdays are always spent in this quiet, peaceful setting where he'd eat his sandwhiches and enjoy his book without his friends bothering. The healthy flowers add shine to the scene, and Kyungsoo could stand there and watch him forever.

 

Jongin seems to sense eyes on him however, and snaps his head his way and Kyungsoo tumbles back with a loud gasp. The smaller leans against the wall but even the cold stone couldn't fight the heat of his body – his face red because _holy moly, that was close!_

 

He scurries away giggling despite his worrries, because ohmygosh, Jongin almost _noticed_ him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

From many days of being the faithful admirer and stalker, Kyungsoo likes to pride himself in knowing a lot of things about Jongin without even being his friend. Aside from his love of arts, for instance, Kyungsoo knows how Jongin likes his sandwiches made, that his favourite author is this Japanese guy even if he's lately into this fantasy series, that Jongin has an undeniable adoration for children and small animals, especially kittens. He laughs at stupid jokes that no one even cracks a smile at and has a bad habit of scratching and rubbing his left earlobe where a silver earring used to reside until it bleeds; which only makes Kyungsoo's fingers itch to swat the naughty fingers and wipe the blood away himself.

 

So to Kyungsoo, it's a first that he sees Jongin walks into campus one day with both his ears plugged, the wires seemingly connected to his phone in the pocket of his washed jeans. Curious eyes tail him until the man disappears down the corridor.

 

Odd, Kyungsoo thinks. Because Jongin doesn't usually listen to music, even when he paints – prefering instead to enjoy the peaceful surrounding of nature, or keeping his ears open for his friends' chatters.

 

It's new, but everyone can take a liking to new things. Maybe Jongin just had a newfound interest.

 

It strikes Kyungsoo that Jongin must really love whatever he's hearing to a week later, because Kyungsoo doesn't think he's ever seen the male without his earphones – aside from when he's talking with people or maybe when he's in his lectures – ever. It eggs him, because he's dying to know what kind of music Jongin is hung up on since he may or may not have an unconditional love for music as well.

 

Monday, Kyungsoo stands from behind the usual window. There's a book on Jongin's lap, but it's lying open uselessly, the owner staring off into space. Kyungsoo blinks, watching as Jongin's beautiful, plump lips slowly stretch into a dreamy smile.

 

The distant gazes have been happening a lot these days while Jongin's ears are plugged, but this – this is unfamiliar. Even though the serene, lovely smile makes his heart beat faster, it also sparks confusion in him.

 

The next day finds Kyungsoo watching him – as per usual – but this time with purpose. Jongin's actions have been questionable lately, as just this afternoon he saw Sehun whining at Jongin for not letting him share what he's listening to. Apparently, even Jongin's friends acknowledge the slight change of his behaviour.

 

Jongin closes his eyes as the wind blows, and Kyungsoo eyes the beautiful scene in a daze.With his dark brown hair ruffled back and a small, peaceful smile graces his lips, Jongin might have passed for an angel.

 

But the most unexpected thing happens.

 

The student lets out an exhale and parts his lips. And Kyungsoo realises he's mouthing the song he's listening to – _singing_ under his breath.

 

Kyungsoo's eyes widen comically, and his jaw slackens. Of course, he can't hear a thing from how far he is and how Jongin's voice is probably just something above a whisper, but with how he's mouthing Kyungsoo knows it's a slow song.

 

He tries to read his lips and pieces after pieces of his heart break away by each word.

 

 

It's a love song.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Oh come on, Kyungsoo,” Jongdae whines, stopping what he's doing to look at the younger. “Stop moping around, would you?”

 

The smaller man halts, looking up with blank eyes. “It's my job.”

 

Jongdae snatches the mop from Kyungsoo's hands with an unamused glare. “Not funny.”

 

Kyungsoo sighs, “It's not that easy, Dae,” looking down sadly before moving forward, “Now give me my mop back.”

 

“Not until you actually listen to me,” Jongdae moves away, and Kyungsoo huffs, annoyed. He relents when he realises this would drag on unless Jongdae gets his way.

 

“Shoot.”

 

“Okay, so firstly, I know he's been your big crush and all, but I don't think even your ultimate stalking can prove that this Jongin kid was singing a love ballad, of all things,” Jongdae flicks his forehead, “it could be anything, any song. Maybe even a cartoon theme song or something.”

 

“But I _know_ that song, Dae,” Kyungsoo retorts, tone almost pleading to convince the other, “I know a lot of songs and that, what he's singing, is definitely 'Dream'. I even used to sing it a lot, for goodness' sake.”

 

Jongdae rolls his eyes, “Say if it is a love song; what makes you so sure he's in love? I could sing a a song about a girl for all I want but that doesn't change the fact that I'm gay.”

 

“If you had been there, you would've seen what I saw,” Kyungsoo's shoulders droop, dejected. “He was really into the song. Like he poured his heart into it, as if every word just..mixed with his feeling...” he trails off with a sigh. “I know a person being 'one' with the song when I see one. I've been there.”

 

Jongdae's eyes soften, and he comes forward to rub the smaller's back soothingly. “Let's say if he _is_ listening to love songs and that he _is_ in _love_ ,” he says gently after a few quiet moments, “what makes you think that this person he's in love with..isn't you?”

 

Kyungsoo shakes his head, lips stretching into a bitter smile. “It can't be, Dae,” he grabs his mop from his colleague's hand, “He's never even noticed me.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

It has been a particularly tiring day, because one worker decided to quit for a better paying job somewhere and it just so happened that another just started to get off work for maternity leave. So he's landed himself extra workload, and although he could always ask for help from fellow co-workers, his heart is too soft to see the ahjussis and ahjummas add more pain to their back and waist. At least he has Jongdae, because despite his naughty and playful demeanor, he proves to feel the same as well so they had divided the extra chores.

 

It doesn't help in the least that he just saw Jongin listening to love songs again. He _heard_ him murmuring a few lines, only confirming his suspicions.

 

He heaves out a sigh as he wipes the countertop around the sinks clean. If only the day can go by much faster because all he wants to do now is roll around in his bed and sleep his head off, and give his tired limbs a break.

 

He's broken out of his daze when he hears shuffling and slightly muffled voices. Well, he thought he was the only one in the washroom. Some student probably entered while he was cleaning the last stall. Odd, he can't help but think, because noone really ever comes to this part of the building at this hour, because the cafe is all the way on the other side of campus—

 

“S-Stop—what if someone comes in?”

 

“Hush, baby, I've got my boys outside. Besides, no one comes here at lunch. Now let me..”

 

“But baby—ahnn~”

 

What the fuck.

 

Nope nope nope, Kyungsoo's not in the mood to deal with this right now. He can't let some horny kids dirty these washrooms when he's spent an hour making it sparkly clean only to repeat all over again just because they're too impatient to keep it in their pants.

 

He'd normally blush to the tip of his ears at the lewd sounds but not today, and Kyungsoo stomps over to the stall where the sounds are coming from; deliberately slamming it open to earn himself a view of a girl pushed down on the toilet lid, skirt ridden up to her waist as her male counterpart stands in between her spread legs. The girl shrieks as she tries to cover herself while the guy curses and turns around with a menacing glare.

 

“What the fuck are you doing, man?!”

 

 _'No, what the fuck are_ you _doing?!'_ is what Kyungsoo wants to say but swallows it down. Busting them with opening the door is as far as he can go because he deems it his right to stop this public indecency, but raising his voice at a student is out of line. So he tries to keep his voice level and says instead, “I'm sorry sir but I believe the washroom is still in cleaning, as I've put the sign outside in case you haven't noticed. And I hope you understand that this is not a suitable place for your activities.”

 

The guy snickers, now turned fully to face him and he towers above Kyungsoo. “And you think I give a flying fuck? I don't fucking care, 'cause I can do whatever wherever and whenever I want to.”

 

“Look, sir,” Kyungsoo feels his blood boil, because just who the hell does this kid think he is? “I'm just about to finish cleaning up this place and I'd appreciate it if you take this somewhere more private.”

 

The taller steps forward despite his girlfriend telling him to just quit it. “You telling me what to do? Is that it?” He shoves Kyungsoo backwards. “If you hate to see us fucking that much then why don't you just scram and fuck off!”

 

The brat's two friends outside seem to have heard the commotion and barge in, quick to crowd around Kyungsoo and corner him. The worker stands his ground despite knowing if it ever comes down to a fight, he wouldn't be able to win against three. “I'm really, really, trying to be polite sir, and I'm honestly just doing my part as a decent human-being—”

 

The words got stuck in his throat when a hard fist to his stomach cuts him off. He reels, back bumping against the hard edge of the counter.

 

“So now the guy's telling me I'm not a decent human-being,” asshat number 1 laughs harshly, and the two guys flanking him snicker. “Telling me I'm an animal, basically. He says I'm a pest!”

 

“If you could just stop putting words in my mouth—”

 

The student on the right pushes him back, a warning glare sent his way. “Pest? That's rich, coming from you, dude.”

 

“I bet he's just jealous 'cause he ain't getting laid!” the other one taunts.

 

The ring leader's have had enough, grabbing him by the collar of his uniform. He pulls him close enough for Kyungsoo to feel his breath on his face, and he resists the urge to tell him to go brush his teeth.

 

“You don't tell me what to do around here, man. I'm in charge around here. You?” he scoffs, “you're just a measly staff running around working for us. A _janitor_. Pst. Not worth attention at all.”

 

He releases Kyungsoo with a shove, sniggering at the smaller's scowl. “Your place is in the shadows, fucker, so stay there like the rat you are.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Kyungsoo knows better than to take the asshats' words to heart. He's not gullible, and yet some words struck a chord. He didn't return to the locker rooms after the small incident, instead bringing himself to the secluded garden after texting Jongdae that he's not spending the lunch with him. He needs some time to himself.

 

What's so wrong about being a janitor? Kyungsoo definitely sees no fault in that. He cleans, makes the world a better place. Get people far from diseases, even. Making sure everything and everywhere is clean. Clean is good.

 

The guy had spat the word as if it disgusted him. Kyungsoo doesn't understand. Well yeah, it's not a high-paying job, but what he does is good. He serves people, and the environment too. So why does the guy seem to perceive it as something that makes him..low?

 

Kyungsoo rubs his stomach uncomfortably; the punch had been quite hard. He can't help the wince. Sighing, he leans back on the bench and closes his eyes, one hand carefully resting on the left side of his tummy where it doesn't hurt.

 

Maybe it's because the job indicates that he's not as smart. That that's all he can land himself, because a work with a higher wage requires academic excellence and certificates and talents and Kyungsoo doesn't have all of that.

 

A soft touch to his cheek is what brings him out of his revery, his eyes snapping open the same time the feeling disappears. And what he finds renders him speechless, not expecting the perpetrator to be his crush.

 

Kim Jongin stands slightly to his left in front of him, shifting his weight on his feet with eyes wide open, one hand clutching the strap of his duffel and the other held close to his torso. His face sports a nervous look as if he's caught doing something he shouldn't be.

 

And Kyungsoo's cheeks flame. As oblivious as he is, he's not stupid enough to not be able to connect the dots and tell that the touch ghosting over his cheek moments ago is, in fact, initiated by Jongin himself. The teenage fangirl in him shrieks, rolling on the floor of his thumping heart, and his hand comes up to cup the cheek in hopes it'd be able to soothe the burn.

 

Jongin's breath hitches at the action and he bows frantically. “I—I'm sorry!” he rushes out, “I didn't mean to—well, so you seemed like you were asleep and—wait, wait not that I meant to do anything if you _were_ asleep—I just—ugh,” he groans, dragging his palms down his face. Kyungsoo is too shocked over the fact that Jongin is actually talking, to _him_ , and actually freaking _touched_ him, that he stays frozen on his seat. “Can you—can you give me a sec?”

 

Kyungsoo nods dumbly. His mind is blanking out right now as he watches a flustered Jongin take deep breaths. The standing male fixed his fac into a more natural one, as if he didn't just freaked out over himself earlier, and says, “Hi.”

 

Jongin is hi-ing him, oh my gosh. “H-Hello.”

 

A beautiful smile spreads across his face and Kyungsoo inwardly swoons. “Can I have a seat here, if you don't mind?”

 

“Oh—oh, sure,” Kyungsoo rushes out, mentally cursing at the high pitch. Jongin sits himself beside him, taking out a sandwich and a novel, and Kyungsoo takes the time to ponder how on earth he managed to land himself in this situation. If memory doesn't fail him, isn't Jongin's lunch today supposed to be an hour away?

 

He's startled from his thoughts when Jongin calls for his attention. “I don't think I've seen you around. What's your name?”

 

“My name?” Jongin nods almost eagerly. “I'm Kyungsoo..Do Kyungsoo.”

 

“I'm Kim Jongin! Nice to meet you, Kyungsoo-sshi.”

 

Jongin said his name. Kyungsoo hears angels singing in the background. He smiles slightly, “You too. Please, just Kyungsoo is fine.”

 

“Cool,” the tanned male says, leaning back comfortably. “I hope I'm not..bothering you here.”

 

“Oh no, no. It's fine.”

 

“I usually come here during lunch hour, and usually it's just me. Do you come here often?”

 

“I..no,” _but I watch you here often_ , “Am I taking your spot? Should I leave?”

 

His breath hitches at the blinding smile Jongin gifts him. “No need. It's good to have company once in a while.”

 

Kyungsoo bows his head to hide the threathening smile. Jongin turns to open his novel, and the smaller realises with a sneaked glance that it's a familiar paperback. “Is—Is that..Kinslayer?”

 

Jongin whips his head so fast Kyungsoo fears that it might've cracked. “You _know_ this series??”

 

They fall into a hyped chat right after, albeit with Kyungsoo's nervous stuttering here and there, to one point Jongin comments that it's cute and Kyungsoo goes red to the root of his hairs. Kyungsoo learns then that Jongin has his classes cancelled since the lecturers had an emergency meeting, explaining why he's there earlier than usual. They jump from one topic to another, Kyungsoo relishing in the continuous supply of the dorky laugh and deep voice floating into his ears.

 

And he gets to know a whole lot more about Jongin than what he already gained. And inevitably, falls a little more deeper.

 

Kyungsoo spends the night screaming into Jongdae's ear through the phone.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They meet again at the very same bench two days later, which may or may not be very coincidental on Kyungsoo's part as Jongin so assumes with a chuckle. Kyungsoo smiles wavily, drunk on euphoria because Jongin doesn't seem so bothered with his presence and that means he's just a few steps away from being Jongin's friend instead of that other student who's starting to spend his lunches at the garden.

 

Student, yes. Because Jongin had mistaken him as one considering their close age and because he wasn't wearing his staff jacket the first time that talked. And Kyungsoo intends to keep it that way.

 

“Oh, you didn't bring lunch with you?” Jongin looks at him sympathetically. “Here, have a bite of my sandwich. It's tuna.”

 

“It's okay. I, uh..I finished mine already.”

 

“Oh,” Jongin sits back, examining him. “And you stayed.”

 

 _Is he seeing through me??!!_ “Yeah, well, I like to enjoy the scenery,” he tries to cover it up, averting his gaze away as he makes a show of looking around. “The flowers here are pretty aren't they.”

 

Jongin's face lights up like a Christmas tree. “I know right! See, that's why I keep coming back here,” he sighs wistfully. “The flowers here are beautiful, it's a shame there's no one here to appreciate them.”

 

“B—But then, why didn't you bring your friends with you?”

 

Jongin snorts and Kyungsoo squeals inside becase how can a snort be so cute. “I don't think they'd even notice anything particular about this place. The flowers will die from the noise pollution.”

 

The dramatic claim draws a laugh out of Kyungsoo despite him trying his best to hide it, and his cheeks color just the slightest bit with mirth. He doesn't realise the stare boring into the side of his face.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They meet again, and again, and again. And again. Over time, Kyungsoo learns to take comfort in Jongin's company despite his heart throwing tantrums beneath his ribcage everytime he so much as hear's the other's voice or looks at him. Jongin opens up to him much more easily, treating him as if they've known much longer instead of three weeks.

 

On this particular day though, Kyungsoo knows Jongin is spending lunch with his friends at the cafeteria but Kyungsoo doesn't mind. He already has a goal in mind as to what he's going to do today. The sun is relentless with no clouds to veil it, but the small male is just as stubborn.

 

“Are you sure you don't want to take a rest, Kyungsoo-yah?” Mr. Han asks, wiping the sweat of his face with a towel as he stands.

 

“I'm fine,” he chirps, unbothered by the sweat dribbling down his temple. “I can go on much longer. You go sit down for a break, Mr. Han!”

 

“Alright, alright,” the older man grumbles. “Make sure you come join me in ten minutes or I'll drag you inside myself.”

 

Kyungsoo laughs, and Mr. Han cracks a smile, shaking his head as he walks away. The younger remains crouched on the ground surrounded by gardening tools, clothes stained with dirt and soil.

 

It's supposed to be tiring, but it's not. Excitement and determination pumps in his veins at the thought of how all this hard work would turn out. The sun is bright and hot above, and his large gardening hat can only do so much, but the smile on Jongin's face will be brighter and Kyungsoo strives on that.

 

Jongin's words about loving the sight of the flowers here rings in his mind for days. Coupled with every bit of intention to make Jongin happy, it drove him to ask Mr. Han, the head gardener, if he could help plant more flowers around the secluded garden where he and Jongin spend their time.

 

He's on his fourth row of a new batch as of now. It's take a while for them to grow and bloom into beauty, but the time will come nonetheless. It'll be beautiful, the new life he had just planted, and Kyungsoo grins to himself at the thought of the future sight.

 

And all it takes is a scrunch to ruin his mood.

 

It's a group of guys passing by, laughing obnoxiously as they share some probably dumb joke. How do they get here anyway?

 

“Hey,” Kyungsoo calls out as he looks up, “I'm sorry but please don't step on the grass and the flowers.”

 

They all turn to look at him and frown. In retaliation, one of them stomps on a blooming lily. Kyungsoo's jaw drops. He makes to stand up, “Please.”

 

“Yeah, what are you gonna do, weave us flower crowns?” they taunt, and the whole group laughs. He recognizes the voice as the one he quarrelled with in the bathrooms some weeks ago.

 

“You,” he scowls, clenching his gloved hand into fists.

 

The guy only then recognizes him as well now seeing his face more clearly beneath the hat. He scoffs. “Oh my god. Not only a pest, you're rolling around in dirt too?” He steps on another beautiful flower flat onto the ground.

 

Kyungsoo rushes forward, if only he could stop the bastards from doing further damage. He kneels urgently at the flowers near to the guys' feet, trying to see if he could fix them somehow, the group all laughing at his pathetic actions. The ring leader snickers and lightly kicks dirt onto his clothes. Kyungsoo's eyes sting just the slightest bit; not because of the mocking, but because of the hard work and the flowers he just lose.

 

He faintly registers voices telling the brats off and chasing them away, one he recognizes as Mr. Han's. He grumbles quietly to himself as he bows his head low while fixing the damage until he hears the voice above him.

 

“Hey, are you okay?”

 

Oh my god. It's Jongin.

 

“Um, uh,” he stumbles dumbly, bowing further to hide his face from view. The large hat does wonders. He forces out an awkward cough and arranges his voice to a low, grunt-y, _older_ , tone. “I'm fine, thank you young man.”

 

A warm hand lands on his shoulder. “Are you sure, ahjussi?”

 

“Dandy!” he squawks, half from surprise at the touch. He feels the questioning stare Mr. Han directs his way and prays that he doesn't open his mouth. “Takes much more to bring this old man down!”

 

Jongin shuffles on his feet. “If you say so. I hope they don't come bother you anymore,” Jongin bows and just as he turns to leave, he halts. “Um, say, ahjussi. Do you happen to see a small guy come here? Dark hair, pale skin, pretty lips?”

 

Pretty lips? Jongin finds someone's lips pretty. A piece of his heart breaks away. “No. Sorry, boy.”

 

He tells Jongdae of what happened and his friend swears to break every one of the guys' neck. And Kyungsoo also tells him of the Jongin incident, and Jongdae smack his own face before he smacks Kyungsoo's own.

 

“Kyungie, who do you ever find spending time with Jongin there?”

 

“No one. Well, there was this tall guy one time..”

 

“Is he small?”

 

Kyungsoo scrunches his face. “No.”

 

“Well, who else have ever spent lunches with Jongin at the garden that he might be looking out for?”

 

“Only I have ever spent time with him there—”

 

Kyungsoo halts. The gears in his head works and give him a result.

 

His face flushes, and Jongdae thanks the lord.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When he reaches the bench two days later, on a Friday, Jongin is standing on the tips of his toes; nervous.

 

“Hi,” the taller male says breathily, gaze flickering up with every stroke of Kyungsoo's hand as the smaller tries to fix his cowlicks.

 

Kyungsoo grins. “Hi. What is it, Jongin?” They've never met outside of lunch before, so it came as a surprise to Kyungsoo when the man had asked to meet after classes yesterday.

 

“Oh, yeah. I was wondering if, uh. If you'd want to meet up some time?”

 

“Jongin, we are meeting right now.”

 

“No, well yeah, but no 'cause I mean,” Jongin sighs, straightening his posture. “I wonder if you'd like to hang out somewhere on Sunday. You know, outside the garden. Out of campus.”

 

His brain stops working altogether. Hang out? _Hang out??_ With the great Kim Jongin?? As in walk with him and laugh and talk about things and eat together and splash sea water at each other and run off into the sunset—

 

“Kyungsoo? Are you okay? Um, Kyungsoo?”

 

He snaps out of it just in time for the waving hand in front of his face to drop in tandem with the fall of Jongin's face. “It's okay if you don't want to..”

 

“I'M GOING.”

 

And that is how Sunday afternoon finds Kyungsoo standing at the entrance of the mall fifteen minutes earlier than promised. In a jittery haste, he'd put on the best clothes he has – which isn't much, honestly; but a nice change from his usual faded old jeans and plain shirt he wears to work underneath the janitor jacket. The rest of the time waiting for his company is spent walking in circles and giving himself pep talks.

 

Jongin arrives like a knight, glowing and all smiles as if he's just won a war. Except that in place of armory is a shirt that hug a lean body nicely and jeans that accentuate strong thighs. Kyungsoo tries not to drool.

 

“Hey,” the taller lets out a chuckle, “you came early—”

 

“You look hot.”

 

“..Excuse me?”

 

Pale cheeks color red in record time. “You look good. I mean the clothes. Yes. They look very good on you. Not that you wouldn't look good without the clothes because you'd still look good—NO, I'm not imagining you without clothes whatsoever—” Kyungsoo takes a step back, covering his face. “I'm just gonna shut up now.”

 

Jongin laughs out loud, and Kyungsoo is horrified. He probably just realises he doesn't want to hang out with someone as dumb as him now.

 

An arm loops around his shoulder, turning them towards the entrance of the building. In a little moment of bravery, Kyungsoo peeks up at him nervously only to surprise himself with how close their faces are and that Jongin is looking at him – a foreign smile playing on his lips. “You look good too, just so you know.”

 

Kyungsoo looks down if only to avoid drowning in the piercing stare.

 

His stomach chooses that moment to complain and Kyungsoo wonders when will all this embarrasment stop.

 

A silent moment passes before Jongin bursts out laughing, before deciding that they should eat first and promptly drags Kyungsoo to the food area, unheeding to Kyungsoo's declining. When Kyungsoo didn't order, however, that's when Jongin figures something is wrong and asks him about it. The smaller flushes red and ducks his head down.

 

“I—I..I've only got enough money..for the movie..”

 

It's the truth. All his paychecks go straight to the family's savings, for bills and rent and food and his sister's studies; spending them on anything other than that is a luxury each family member gets once a month. He didn't bother looking up to see what kind of face Jongin is making, because he prefers to let himself enjoy the bliss of ignorance instead of having his hopes crushed by matters in the form of pity and ridicule.

 

What he gets is different then what he has expected.

 

“What??” Kyungsoo's head snaps up at the indecrulous tone. “Why did you even bring money? You didn't think that you'd be spending today..right?” Kyungsoo still looks at him wide-eyed and Jongin chuckles. “I'm sorry if I haven't made myself clear before, Kyungsoo, but as you can see, I'm the one who asked you to come hang out, and therefore everything's on me.”

 

“B—But—”

 

Jongin hushes him. “It's my personal rule for whenever I ask someone out. Besides,” he throws the smaller a cheeky, albeit bashful, grin, “it's a date.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Their relationship; they don't have a clear label to what it is.

 

They start off as the hot crush and the creep – something Jongin doesn't need to know – to 'fellow students' – another thing Jongin doesn't need to know – spending lunches together in a secluded garden on campus. Kyungsoo likes to think they had progressed to friends throughout the weeks, because now as much as he knew Jongin, the other has gotten to know a good chunk of him too. They have things and interests they share in common and certain areas where they clash, prefering opposites, but they get along through it all.

 

So when the other day Jongin had so shyly claimed their outing as a _date_ , Kyungsoo is at a lost.

 

Because he wouldn't say they are dating as of the moment. And far from boyfriends, of course. They don't do what dating people normally do, and he doesn't think their interactions can be seen as lovey-dovey in any way; at least in his eyes. Yet the fleeting touches; they're there, burning him inside out whenever their skin brush even for a short moment. The shy glances that can somehow turn into unaverting gazes. The smiles, the stretch of lips that isn't intended – something different from his flastered and bashful grins and Jongin's cheeky and playful snicker, something more _fond_ and happens without real reason and just simply because they're being in close proximity. They're all there.

 

The predicament doesn't bother Kyungsoo for long, however. Because despite not knowing what stage they're in at the moment, at least these things, these little things, they happen, and they're going closer and closer by day. They go out two more times since their first outing to the movies – to the park once and another to the animal shelter, to save budget – and they're doing fine. This is far beyond what he's ever dreamed of. He doesn't care that much now that Jongin is still listening to those love songs whenever he's not in Kyungsoo's company.

 

To say he's on cloud nine is an understatement. The days go by in sunshine and rainbows. Even the students notice the slight skip to his steps as he walks down the corridor, the healthy pink on the apple of his cheeks even beneath the cap. His mood is soaring today too because he's got another 'hang out' with Jongin scheduled this evening after his shift at the cafe downtown, so he's not the slightest bit annoyed when the head staff had asked him to cover another janitor's assigned area which he's not really familiar of. And now he's done, he's on his way back to the locker room, dirty cloths in one hand and a pail half-filled with dirty water in another.

 

It goes downhill from there.

 

One moment he's strolling down the corridor and the next he's tumbling forward and down, down until he meets the floor. The pail inevitably flies out of his hands and most of the water has him drenched and dirtied the floor an ahjumma so painstakingly mopped earlier. Gasps resounded everywhere from around him courtesy of students filling the corridor, having just ended classes, but the loudest sound that rings in his ears is the mocking laughter.

 

He closes his eyes to regain what least of composure he can muster, the voices above him all too familiar. The group of brats that has been messing with him. Of course.

 

“What? Can't get up now?”

 

Kyungsoo is about to get up but the soles of his old sneakers are worn-out, and with the spilled water, he slips without even managing to lift himself fully off the ground. He lands again with a splat.

 

“Hahahahaha oh my god!” the ring leader heaves, as if it's the funniest thing he's ever seen in the world. His group of friends hollers as well. “I knew you were the type to wallow in filth!”

 

Students are standing stationary, watching him, and he feels the pitiful eyes of those who aren't laughing. They weigh him down with the tauntings all the same. Not everyone is laughing yet no one steps up to help him either. He feels the humilliation, creeping underneath his skin like vines and he can't even hide his face properly due to his cap having slipped off from his fall. He just—he needs everyone to _stop staring_.

 

Just as his eyes begin to sting with the tell-tale signs of tears, he registers the laughing coming to a stop with a – “What the _fuck_ are you doing man?!”

 

And he thought the situation couldn't get any worse.

 

“I didn't do anything,” Brat #1 says defiantly. “He fell by himself!”

 

“I saw you,” a deeper voice claims, “I saw you stuck out your foot!”

 

“Then it's his own goddamn fault he didn't see it!”

 

A crowd has formed to witness the commotion, some even joining in to defend Kyungsoo, but Kyungsoo just really, really wants to get away. He's bared and vulnerable before everyone's eyes, and he feels powerless, and he hates it.

 

A hand encloses around his forearm while the bickering continues in the background and he's tugged up before he could make his hasty escape, only to look up and meet eyes with Kim Jongin.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“I'm sorry, sir,” his tone rises just slightly, “you _can't_ be serious?”

 

The remorseful face of the man in the chair across the table doesn't relent and Kyungsoo's face falls.

 

“Sir, please.”

 

“I am so, so, sorry Mr. Do,” the man, Mr. Choi, says regretfully. “This is by direct order of the director of the university, I have no power whatsoever to help you.”

 

“But sir,” Kyungsoo's voice cracks halfway, the hands clutching on the letter in his grasp tighter, “You have to understand! I—I have a family, an—and this is one of the many jobs I have the highest pay for!”

 

Mr. Choi shakes his head. “I tried, Mr. Do, but I didn't get a say. The director's son, it seems, claims that you have caused him humiliation.”

 

“If you please just hear my side of the story—”

 

“And so I've heard from other students. It is indeed not your fault, but the director's son doesn't think so. The director doesn't believe his son would do such a thing after all..”

 

The tears finally fall, one by one to trail down his cheeks and his lips are wobbling along with his knees. “We won't be able to pay our rent and afford the heater for the upcoming fall and winter, sir..”

 

Mr. Choi averts his gaze, not being able to stand the sight anymore and Kyungsoo crumbles.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you done, Kyungsoo?”

 

“Just a minute!” He snatches the last of the pillow case from the bed and passes them off to the girl waiting at the threshold. “Here you go, Seulgi.”

 

Seulgi gives him a grateful smile before she continues on her way. With the room squeaky clean and the laundries sent off, Kyungsoo deems his job done and closes the door with a satisfied grin.

 

It's only been three weeks since he started working here and he's got everything under control. The mansion he works in is humongous, but like back in campus, he's not doing the job alone. The maids here are friendly and nice too and they treat him like family. The butler, being the one in charge of everything, can be cranky at times but he knows underneath all that nagging is a big softie, if his weakness for kids and cute things is anything to go by. He had to quit some of his part-time jobs to be able to work here fully but that's okay; the pay is surprisingly good and he could earn just as much as before. He's thankful for whoever it is that stuck the ad for this job in his family's mailbox.

 

He'd honestly be lying if he says he doesn't miss his friends and colleagues back in college, even the lecturers that dote on him too. And he makes it a mission to visit them sometimes. While making sure he doesn't bump into the group of brats, of course. The mansion provides the staff quarters in the east wing where they can rest or bath or stay the night, particularly those who works full time. Kyungsoo shares a room with a kitchen boy, Luhan and chaffeur, Junmyeon, who he learned a lot from, and despite enjoying their company, he refuses their invitations for outings on weekends in opt for visiting his family at home instead.

 

But of course; one thing he misses most is lunches in the secret garden.

 

He misses the soft breeze that carresses his face gently, the grass that rustle along. He misses the way the rays of sunlight peek through the gaps of the leaves, creating patterns onto his skin. He misses the flowers blooming so beautifully, and he briefly wonders what has become of the little buds he had planted.

 

And of course, he misses Jongin.

 

Jongin and his radiant smile, his laugh, his gaze, his dumb jokes. He misses everything dearly.

 

Kyungsoo sighs as he walks along the hall back to his room, memories of tan skin and warm eyes plaguing his mind as they do everyday. Not that he can ever face him again now after all that has happened; he doubts Jongin wants to meet someone who's been lying to him all along, no matter how much Kyungsoo yearns to beg for forgiveness.

 

Luhan is already there when he enters. “Tough day?”

 

Kyungsoo looks at him funny. “Why do you think that?”

 

“'Cause that's a pretty sad face you're wearing,” Luhan pats the spot beside him on his bed. “Penny for your thoughts?”

 

The bed dips when Kyungsoo settles in, shoulder meeting Luhan's as he sagged his back against the wall. The other male puts his phone aside. “Same old.”

 

“Ah,” Luhan grins a little in understanding. “Lover boy is it.”

 

“I wouldn't call him that now though. Ugh, I was an idiot to think I stood a chance.”

 

“Hey, hey. You make yourself more of an idiot if you think like that,” an arm loops around Kyungsoo's shoulders, “Technically, you _were_ an idiot for hiding your identity in the first place, but then again I'm sure there was a reason to that. And if lover boy is as nice as you've always said he is, he must've understood that too.”

 

“It's not 'lover boy'..”

 

“Whatever,” cue eye-roll, “you wouldn't tell us his name anyway.”

 

Kyungsoo sighs, closes his eyes and snuggles close to Luhan for a short nap.

 

\- - -

 

Three months pass in a breeze and Kyungsoo's completely settled in. He no longer gets lost in the house, knows which room is which, where's not to go and when to do this and that. His family is doing fine back at home and so are his friends – Jongdae, livid at the board of directors of the university for being a coward and not doing anything to prevail justice for the staff, had decided to quit and now is striving to open a cafe with a friend, Minseok.

 

He dares say he's content with how things are, but the void in his heart refuses to let him do so.

 

Kyungsoo doesn't know when it happened, or how; when did he fell too deep into the man of his dreams, and how did he manage to let himself go so far. He supposes it's in between the many times they spent together and during the little moments which isn't quite there, but definitely is. Somewhere between the brush of fingers and laughing at each other's embarrassing childhood stories, the spark happened and got bigger and bigger through time. Where all of this had once blown life into Kyungsoo, now it just left a longing in his chest.

 

He wonders if Jongin feels this too, or Kyungsoo was nothing much to him all along and if he's taking this all in stride.

 

The thought pains him, naturally, but he can't help but feel that now that Jongin knows he's a liar. And that all those talks of him in performing arts are nothing but bullshit. If Jongin did take him as a friend, then he must've felt betrayed. Either way it hurts Kyungsoo's heart just as bad.

 

And he also wonders if Jongin has made a move of whoever it is that he's got the hots for. Jongin never really did stop indulging himself in those love songs after all.

 

The clock strikes one and Kyungsoo sighs as he gets up from his seat. Lunch break feels too short when he has too much in mind. The cup makes a soft clank as it meets with the plate, Kyungsoo lifting them up and heading to the door by the kitchen to put away his dishes in the basin where the kitchen staffs will wash away later.

 

The door slams open right when he reaches there and Luhan flies out with an urgency Kyungsoo hasn't seen before.

 

“Luhan hyung!” he stops him by the elbow, “What's wrong?”

 

“Have to clear the dining room fast. Master; he'll be home in an hour.”

 

Struck, Kyungsoo stands there frozen. Master isn't supposed to be coming home until next week.

 

Luhan shrugs off his hand and sprints away, and by now the maids are also scrambling to set the house straight.

 

The mansion is by no means messy and is the opposite, really. But the master of the house, whenever he comes home from his business trips, he likes a feast served and everything in the house polished and sparkly, particularly his bedroom – his pillow fluffed atop fresh-scented newly changed sheets.

 

The brain in his head start working again and Kyungsoo rushes off himself, fixing everything he can along with the other panicked staff.

 

That same evening Kyungsoo returns to his room to two seemingly dead bodies of his roommates on their beds. Not bothering to climb onto his top bunk, Kyungsoo drops flat onto Junmyeon.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It happens one night, when he's changed into his sleepwear and has brushed his teeth, about to climb onto his bed after putting the dropped cucumber slice back onto one of Luhan's sleeping eyes, that there's a knock on his door.

 

“Kyungsoo,” Seulgi says after he's opened the door, “The Young Master requests to see you.”

 

“..Can you repeat that, please?”

 

“Young Master. Wants. To. See. You. Now go, don't make him wait.”

 

“What? Why?” he's utterly confused because he's never really directly served the young master, doing work behind the scenes instead and he's only been home when he returned with his father, the Master of the house, the other day. “I didn't do anything to anger him did I?”

 

“I _don't know_ , Kyungsoo,” Seulgi sighs, “the only way to find out is to see him.”

 

“B-But I..” Kyungsoo looks down helplessly at his worn sweatpants and the oversized tee he's wearing. 'DADDY'S BOY' in bold white letters glares back at him. “I can't just—”

 

Another male staff drops by, pikachu printed pajamas glaring in the dim hall. Jackson. “Kyungsoo, the Young Master called for you,” he yawns and walks away.

 

Kyungsoo and Seulgi exchange a look. Seulgi cocks her head and Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, shutting the door behind him and leaves to the other side of the mansion.

 

He's definitely heard of the Young Master. Being the third child of the owner of the house means he's the youngest, and while his older siblings are off as successful business womed, he's still studying to pursue his dreams, living in an apartment closer to his uni resulting that he's seldom home save for the holidays. And this is the first time that he's returned since Kyungsoo started working here.

 

Kyungsoo wrings his hand nervously before taking a deep breath, standing straight and knocking on the mahogany door.

 

He hears a soft and low “Come in,” so he goes ahead with a bob of his throat.

 

What he finds after shutting the door softly brings a gasp out of his lips in an instant.

 

 

“Kyungsoo.”

 

 

 

 

 

For a moment, time stops. For a moment, Kyungsoo feels his _heart_ stop. It's everything he wants and everything he doesn't.

 

The other man stands from his chair. “It's been a while, hasn't it.”

 

Even his voice is still the same. His breath hitches when Jongin takes a step forward. “Kyungsoo?”

 

“Jongin,” he breathes. “You'r—You're Jongin.”

 

“Yes, yes I am,” Jongin purses his lips for a moment, “I—I can explain.”

 

“So this is all a joke?”

 

“What? What—no!”

 

Kyungsoo feels his fingers tremble, and his knees feel weak. Everything is pieced together, the missing puzzle pieces put into place. All that longing, that emptiness he feels in his chest, all for nothing?

 

“You were the one who slipped that ad into my mailbox didn't you,” Kyungsoo breathes hard, “You eavesdropped, didn't you? It was you, wasn't it, outside the vice director's office that day? I _knew_ there was a shadow!”

 

“Kyungsoo calm down,” Jongin comes forward, halting when Kyungsoo takes a step back, knowing it's the truth when Jongin doesn't even bother to deny his claims. “Kyungsoo, listen to me.”

 

“You heard everything, didn't you?” the back of his eyelids stung, and his lips tremble from so much swirling emotions. “So you make me work here to make fun of me? To get back at me, is that it?”

 

In normal circumstances, Kyungsoo would have been one to think rationally before spitting mindless assaults, but the words and accusations flow out of his mouth like water, his brain refusing to filter anything by this time because he's enraged.

 

“Don't you _dare_ say that, Do Kyungsoo. I would _never_. You're dear to me, Kyungsoo, I wouldn't even _think_ of doing such a thing.”

 

“You wouldn't have left me hanging after the incident and make me work in your home only to barge in _months_ later as if nothing's ever happened if I'm so _'dear'_!”

 

In a flash, a cry escapes his lips when his back meets the wall and his wrists are pinned beside his head. There is a mouth on his and Kyungsoo struggles, but Jongin presses harder, slotting their lips messily.

 

Kyungsoo's attempts weaken as a minute passes on, his knees weak like jello and the only thing that keeps him up is the arm wrapped around his waist. Jongin pulls away with both of them breathing heavily.

 

His eyelids open – when did he close them? – only to have his eyes meet with the warm ones he's been dreaming all along.

 

“I never meant to hurt you..” he thumbs away the tears that slid down Kyungsoo's cheek with his free hand.

 

“I spent months wondering if you even remembered me, Jongin,” Kyungsoo croaks out, “If I ever meant to you at all, even as a friend. I spent weeks missing your stupid smile and stupid laugh and stupid eyes and stupid face and your stupid everything,” he clutches the front of Jongin's shirt tighter, “not having a clue that I've been working in your own goddamn house all along.”

 

There's a certain helplessness that flashes in Jongin's eyes, “Kyungsoo please,” he strokes the smaller's cheek. “Please don't cry. Don't cry.”

 

“I _missed_ you.”

 

When Kyungsoo closes his eyes, he doesn't see how Jongin's own soften in response. “I missed you too. Would you hear me out, Kyungsoo, please?”

 

He's replied with silence and Jongin takes it as a go.

 

“I never wanted to hurt you. All of this, they're never a game or a plan to get back at you or anything like that.”

 

Kyungsoo opens his eyes and shrinks in on himself unconsciously. “Is this out of pity, then?”

 

“No,” Jongin rubs soothing circles onto his hip over the shirt, preventing the tears from spilling again. “I helped you because I wanted to. I admit; I eavesdropped, but because I was worried, I knew how much power the brat student held. I wanted to help, but being by your side didn't seem as an option – I had thought you wouldn't want to see me after I found out you were not a student.”

 

Kyungsoo recoils again, looking down, but Jongin tightens his hold on the other to show that it's fine.

 

“So I thought of a more practical way. I _was_ being selfish; I figured I'd get to have you all to myself if you work in my own house.”

 

A blush darkens the red of Kyungsoo's cheeks despite himself. He frowns. “B-But then..if you had wanted me close, why didn't you come home to this mansion and reveal yourself?”

 

Jongin chuckles lightly. “I was a coward then. I didn't dare imagine how you'd react, if you thought this was all for naught or pity – like you did minutes ago – since I didn't come and offer the job to you face to face.”

 

His heart melts at the statement. “Then why do you come back _now_?”

 

A smile spreads across the taller's face, adoring and fond. “I realised I miss you too much to stay away any longer.”

 

Kyungsoo gulps. “I..I want to be mad at you right now but I can't,” the fists he has on Jongin's shirt clench and unclench. “I want to feel betrayed but—but I lied to you as well so. We're even.”

 

“Why did you lie to me, though?”

 

“I wasn't exactly..proud of my job,” Kyungsoo shifts his gaze down. “You were one of the popular kids and I didn't think a _janitor_ , of all people, would be someone you'd spend lunches with when you have talented friends and admirers dying to spend even a moment with you,” he looks up, “I'm not rich, not one of the brilliant students on campus. I'm a nobody Jongin.”

 

Jongin doesn't say anything right away. With a tug, he pulls Kyungsoo to sit with him on the couch by the large window at one side of the room. Kyungsoo sits obediently, albeit questioningly, and waits for whatever Jongin wants to say as he plays with Kyungsoo's shorter fingers.

 

“Kyungsoo,” he says, to have Kyungsoo look at him because Jongin wants them eye-to-eye. To have Kyungsoo sse it in his eyes that he means every word. “You're not a nobody, Kyungsoo,” he whispers. “I wouldn't have come back to meet you again and again if that was the case. I don't care if you're a cleaning staff or my maid or a student or anything because that has never been the reason I look out for you. You're an amazing person, your background or financial status or academic degree won't ever change that. You're hardworking and kind and beautiful, and your line of work doesn't even matter to me,” Jongin manages an easy, crooked smile, “Besides, you're not a nobody if you can steal my heart so effortlessly.”

 

“Yo—you're not mad? That I li—lied?”

 

“Shocked, surprised, yes. But not mad, Kyungsoo. And I just hope you could've trusted me more.”

 

Kyungsoo sniffles. “I—I'm s-sorry.”

 

Jongin shushes him. “I'm so sorry too. I guess I kind of betrayed you too, in a way.”

 

Silence engulfs them. Kyungsoo breaks it when he remembers the last line to Jongin's short speech practically feeling the steam rushing out of his ears.

 

“Y-You like m-me?”

 

“I thought the kiss earlier was enough to clarify that,” and just to spite him, Jongin catches his lips once again, laughing to Kyungsoo's red face when they part.

 

“Well I—” Kyungsoo clears his throat, “I l-like you too. Very much.”

 

“I figured,” the grin stays on Jongin's lips, finally pulling Kyungsoo into a hug after receiving a weak punch to his chest. “Idiots, we both are.”

 

“Let's work on gaining back each other's trust after this, okay? And to _trust_ each other too,” he feels Kyungsoo nod, and continues, “So Kyungsoo,” he pulls back and holds the smaller hands in his. “Be my boyfriend?”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_Four months later._

 

 

The sky is clear, yet the weather isn't too hot – just nice for a day spent outside. On the swing in a far corner of the mansion's wide gardens, Jongin hums to the song he's listening to on his earphones. It feels like an hour has gone by and he puts down his book beside him, stretching like a cat and looks around hoping to see Kyungsoo running over.

 

To his dismay, there isn't even a shadow in sight so he resorts to returning to his reading. When he's making to grab his book however, the bag beneath the novel – Kyungsoo's duffel – falls onto the grass, spitting out a rather thick book.

 

He picks it up curiously. It doesn't look like a novel or anything to read, with how the covers are bound with leather. He opens it only to find Kyungsoo's full name at the front-most page.

 

Oh.

 

It's a diary.

 

 

 

“Jongin-ah,” Kyungsoo chirps happily as he rounds the path to the clearing where the swing is. He has an apology set on his tongue, because since today he's particularly busy, he couldn't make it on time to their lunch dates in the garden.

 

He stops dead in his tracks when the sight that greets him is of Jongin standing there with a very familiar book in hand.

 

“So,” Jongin raises an eyebrow in mock indifference, “you've been crushing on me for that long, huh?”

 

Kyungsoo shrieks, charging forward. “Give it back!”

 

Jongin merely held him back by the shoulder and flips open a page. “ _'I saw him again today, laughing with his friends at the lockers. Ah, he looks so good with the blue shirt! Aigoo, what do I do??'_ ”

 

The wail Kyungsoo lets out only made him want to do it more, despite the hands clawing at his arms. “ _'Jongin patted a puppy today. Does he ever realise that he's as cute as the puppy himself?'_ ”

 

“I don't sound like that!”

 

“ _'Roses are red, Violets are blue; Jongin is going to bed, Would you bring Soo too?'_ ”

 

The line brought out the loudest scream yet, and the loudest laughter. Kyungsoo thinks he doesn't even have an ounce of dignity left in him so he releases Jongin and covers his face.

 

“Hey, hey,” Jongin steps closer to rub Kyungsoo's back. “I'm sorry, you're just too damn cute for me not to do it ooph,” he winces at the jab to his waist. He pulls Kyungsoo by the waist, chuckling, and presses a kiss to his temple. “I'm honored you've liked me that much since way back enough to dream about me and get excited even at the sight of me.”

 

Kyungsoo doesn't think the red on his face is going down soon and he hides his face in Jongin's chest. “Stupid. You're so annoying.”

 

“You love me.”

 

“Sadly.”

 

“And I love you too,” Jongin chuckles, the rumbles in his chest tingling Kyungsoo's skin. “Gotta admit though, you were really cheesy.”

 

“Says the one who listens to love songs all the time!”

 

“Wait what—”

 

Before he could go any further, Kyungsoo snatches the phone from Jongin's pocket and yanks out the plugged earphone. What he hears stuns him into silence.

 

A song floats out into the afternoon air, a love song he knows all too well.

 

Sung by a _voice_ he knows all too well.

 

 _His_ voice.

 

The songs he used to sing in an empty, unused studio at one part of the arts building, when he was a janitor and had nothing to do during his short breaks and just felt like letting go.

 

Kyungsoo stares at Jongin wide-eyed, and Jongin rewards him a sheepish smile.

 

 

“I might have had a crush on you for some time too.”

 

 


	2. Bonus

The hallways are silent save for the echoes of a certain someone's footsteps – whish are almost as silent itself from how stealthy his moves are, more so when he finally nears the grey door by the end of the corridor. It's almost barren here and he reckons everyone is probably in classes or having lunch. It's almost midday after all.

 

He never did venture here often back in the day, considering he has nothing to do here in this particular building. So he believes it had been fate that had brought him here that one afternoon a few weeks back; in the form of an errand for Byun. And it's still vivid in his memory, that particular day, one of which he doesn't think he will ever forget.

 

He never did regret that day.

 

Today, though, he wonders if 'he' will even be here, or worse yet, if he himself is too late. But the lights peeking from the gap beneath the door tells a different story, one that pushes a relieved sigh out from between his lips.

 

The sling bag he's carrying makes a soft, barely audible thump on the floor when he leans his back against the door and slid down until he's sitting, arms resting on his raised knees. And he waits, because he knows it will come soon.

 

Sunlight spills through the windows on the opposite wall and he imagines them shining on the person he longs to see – if it will create a halo on his head, if it will make his skin glow. If it will make him look like—

 

Like an _angel_.

 

A soft hum breaks his thoughts.

 

Travelling through the same gap between the door and the ground, the soft sound ascends into a melody that soothes his ear, into his insides to ignite a warm feeling that spreads all over his body. The voice from behind the door starts to _sing_.

 

Molding over words and the ocassional adlib, the beautiful sound wraps itself around his mind, his heart, and in that moment, he doesn't mind drowning in this little inferno.

 

If it means this unknown angel would take him, then so be it.

 

Head tilted back against the door and lips tugging just the slightest bit at the corners, he closes his eyes.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The leaves sway to the slight breeze that blows through the spring air.

 

With his lecture cancelled, he had thought that he could spend the extra time in his usual spot – a peaceful garden that he's somehow grown attached to. His own personal heaven, as he would have it.

 

It has always been him alone but today – today, he stands rooted to the ground, because apparently he's not alone.

 

On the bench where he usually sits, there is someone.

 

Someone who's lying back, dressed in white.

 

He walks over to the bench slowly only to have his breath caught in his throat.

 

With the person's eyes shut, long eyelashes curtain smooth apple cheeks, highlighted by the sunlight shining from up above. Rosy lips form the barest shape of a heart, topped off with a button nose that completed his allover soft features; crowned with a tuft of midnight black hair.

 

It's as if he's been put in a spell – from how his hand moves on its own, lifting to place the softest of touch on the stranger's cheek, as if any rougher and everything can shatter.

 

In that moment eyelids flutter open, and big, beautiful eyes met his, and this person is really so _so_ ethereal, and he knows he's doomed.

 

 

 _Angel_ , a voice in his mind echoes.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)

**Author's Note:**

> Lame is me, me is lame


End file.
